24 Hours
by fatedtopretendd
Summary: He holds her again, so tightly that he cannot imagine ever letting go. The 24 hours after the shooting. Post S2 Finale. One-shot.


A/N: Another one-shot! Please review if you can :)

/

It's nearly 1am by the time the doctors have finished checking up on him and the police have asked their initial questions. Sandy convinces them to wait till tomorrow morning for their statement. He sits in the starkly white hospital room playing the scenes over and over in his head. The gunshot, the blood dripping, Trey's body falling with a lifeless thump. He thinks of Trey now in the ICU with his future uncertain. He thinks of Marissa, remembers her petrified face and her thin frame slumped to the ground in Trey's living room.

He feels like he is drowning.

He can barely even think about what Trey tried to do. His mind cannot even contemplate the word, _rape_.

* * *

He asks Sandy if they can drop by Marissa's house before going home. Sandy's about to suggest that they wait till the morning but he takes in Ryan's broken face and cannot say no.

"It's not your fault," he tells Ryan when they're in car. Ryan doesn't reply, staring out of the window. "I'm not going to sit here and say you made the right decision by going over to Trey's - you should have come to me - but you can't beat yourself up about what _he_ did."

"I know," Ryan finally replies, clearly disbelieving.

When they finally get to her house, he is sick with fear. What if she does not want to see him?

Sandy reads the apprehension and places his hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"We can still go home," he says.

"No," Ryan replies. "I...I need to see her." And that's what it feels like, at least for a part of him. He needs her more than ever before. He needs her to forgive him and to not give up on them. He has lost Trey, figuratively and maybe even literally. He cannot lose Marissa as well.

He rings the door and doesn't know who to expect. He hopes it is Jimmy but instead it is Julie. She is taken aback to see him.

"What are you doing here?" Julie asks. She's missing her usual energy. Her words don't cut into him but he can feel the lingering condemnation. There's that part of her instinctively ready to attack.

"I wanted to see, Marissa," he mumbles.

"She's sleeping," Julie replies.

Ryan wonders if Julie's lying.

"I gave her a sedative to help her sleep, she needed to rest," Julie adds.

"Ok," he nods. "I guess I'll talk to her tomorrow."

He's about to leave when he stops and blurts out, "I'm sorry." His eyes look away, ashamed for the first time of what Julie thinks of him.

"Ryan," Julie starts. She stops for a second and deliberates. "She wanted to talk to you as well. I convinced her to leave the hospital, we didn't know how long you were going to be and I could tell she was tired. _You_ need to get some rest as well. Go home, I'll tell her you stopped by."

He nods again, debating the insinuation behind her comment.

* * *

Five hours of restless sleep later, he is awake at 7. The burden of the world is on his shoulders.

Sandy calls the hospital and they learn there is no update on Trey. He remains in a coma. Sandy also tells him that the Coopers are dropping by to run through Marissa's statement before meeting with the police.

He's brooding in the poolhouse when he hears a knock on his door and a timid, _hey_.

Marissa stands nervously, half a smile attempting to to hide how broken and fragile she feels.

"Hey," Ryan says, standing up and walking over.

"I'm so so sorry," Marissa tells him and tears start falling. Ryan looks on in horror.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He puts his hands on her arms, suddenly tentative and very conscious of whether she will welcome his touch. He silently reprimands himself for asking the question. _What's wrong?_ Everything that could be wrong is wrong.

"I didn't mean to hurt him, I didn't _want_ to hurt him, not like that. I don't know what else I could have done, God, Ryan, he was going to...I just couldn't stand there and watch that," she says hurriedly. "I couldn't lose you," she begs and somewhere in there she pleads, _I can't lose you_.

"Marissa," Ryan says and trails away. He cannot believe what she is saying, that someone could care so much about him. He pulls her closer and when she does not resist, he draws her into a hug. She falls into his embrace, holding him tightly and sobbing softly into his shoulder.

"I love you," he whispers into her ear. She has waited so long to hear him say those words again and now that he has, it is so bittersweet.

He moves apart and tells her seriously, "You have nothing to apologise for. I _know_ there was nothing else you could have done. I know, _okay_?"

Marissa nods at him, a smile escaping. Ryan smiles back and presses a light kiss on her forehead.

"What Trey did, or tried to do...it doesn't change how I feel about you. It never did. I love you," she informs him, her eyes doey and tears welling.

Ryan watches Marissa struggle with the memories as she speaks and feels his heart break. He holds her again, so tightly that he cannot imagine ever letting go.

* * *

Marissa, Seth and Summer wait in the lobby for Ryan to finish with the police. Seth fidgets nervously.

"I guess I shouldn't have told him," he ponders wryly. Marissa glances at him and gives him a badly disguised glare. She says nothing and returns to staring at the space ahead of her.

Seth cowers, wanting to defend himself but for once, finding a deficiency of words. Summer gives him a sympathetic look and squeezes his arm.

"Marissa, I," he starts.

"Cohen, I don't think now's the time," Summer interjects.

"I'm sorry, Marissa, but I was just trying to help," Seth asserts.

"Help? _How?_ "

"Trey was, is, dangerous. Ryan needed to know. Don't you think he deserved to know?"

"Did you consider _why_ I hadn't told him, Seth?" Marissa snaps. Seth goes silent, thinking of Ryan's reaction.

"Besides," Marissa adds pointedly, "It wasn't your secret to tell." She looks at Summer. Despite hating confrontation, she is honestly annoyed by the fact that she told Seth. "That goes to you too, Sum," she mentions quietly.

"Coop, I'm so sorry," Summer tells her, spirit deflating by the second. "I didn't know what to do."

"This isn't Summer's fault," Seth protests from the side.

"I _know_ , Seth."

"Seth, let it go," Summer says, wanting this argument to end.

"I'm not trying to blame either of you," Marissa insists with a sigh. "It is what it is. It's a fucking mess."

They hear the noise of shuffling behind the door and instantly go quiet. Ryan emerges with Sandy, both of them tired.

"How did it go?" Seth asks. Sandy gives a weak smile, says that the important thing for now is that all the statements are done. They will have to wait and see how things progress.

Marissa walks over to Ryan and squeezes his hand.

"You ok?" she says softly. He looks at her and they both know he is not, but he nods anyway.

"So, what now?" Summer questions from the side.

"Well, for now, we're all free to go home," Sandy answers.

As the five of them walk out, Marissa asks Ryan, "What do you want to do?"

Ryan awkwardly avoids her gaze. "I was going to check on Trey," he replies. "But I don't expect you to come with me, you shouldn't have to see him again," he quickly follows up.

Marissa processes what he has said and manages an _okay_. Suddenly she is wondering how they can ever overcome Trey. How can she be his girlfriend and be the person responsible for taking his brother away?

"Coop, how about I drop you home?" Summer suggests, observing the gaping awkwardness and tension between Ryan and Marissa. Marissa nods her agreement. She leans in to press a kiss goodbye on Ryan's cheek. Before she pulls away, he holds her and tells her, "I'll come by later, okay?"

* * *

"I'm really sorry, Coop," Summer repeats on the drive to Marissa's house.

"It's ok," Marissa replies flatly, her mind clearly elsewhere.

"But I can tell it's not."

Tears prick at the back of Marissa's eyes. Anger and frustration, every possible emotion, they all feel so close to the surface. Marissa declines to say anything. Instead turns the radio on and lets a chorus of Top 40 hits fill the silence between them.

When they get to Marissa's house, Summer tries again.

"Coop," she begins and Marissa finally looks in her direction. Summer loses her confidence. "I'm sorry," she finishes feeble.

"I trusted you," Marissa points out. "I asked you not to say anything, you _promised_ …"

"I know, Coop, I know. I thought I was helping."

Marissa sighs, sadly acknowledges that she knows Summer meant well. She buries her head against her hands, fighting the tears that always feel imminent. "It just got so fucked up so quickly. Maybe if I had been the one to tell him, maybe, I don't know, maybe I could have stopped him," she mumbles.

Summer places a tentative hand on Marissa's back, attempts to console her best friend.

"Don't blame yourself, Coop. I don't think anyone could have stopped Ryan that night," Summer says. Marissa glances at Summer, knowing rationally that she is at least partly right. After a moment, Summer asks, "Did you really think he would try to…?" She stops herself midway, realising that the words were too scary to voice out loud.

Marissa's eyes glaze over, as afraid as Summer to contemplate the possibility that Ryan had wanted to kill Trey last night.

"Last year, when he found out Eddie hit Theresa, he went crazy," she explains quietly. "He was so angry and so ready to fight him. And now, it was his brother betraying him, after everything. I knew he would be devastated. I didn't tell him for a lot of reasons but I was worried about him getting hurt. I never thought it would end the way it did."

"You saved his life, Coop," Summer emphasises.

Everyone keeps telling her that, Marissa thinks, but it doesn't lessen the guilt.

"But Trey might die, and it would be my fault. And God, Ryan, what if he cannot forgive me? How the fuck is he supposed to forgive me for killing his brother?"

"Oh babe, you did what you had to do, you did the right thing," Summer tries hopelessly to reassure. "Ryan _knows_ that, trust me. He does not blame you, and if he fucking does, I swear to God, I will kick his ass all the way back to Chino."

Marissa looks at Summer, forever grateful for her best friend's support but her despair persisting no matter what Summer says.

"But it's his brother," Marissa repeats sadly.

"Well, you have me," Summer states, unwilling to admit defeat. "Best friends forever, right?"

A smile breaks through. Barley and still sad, but a smile nevertheless.

"Best friends forever," Marissa confirms.

* * *

Ryan finds Marissa in her room, lying on her bed, flicking through a magazine.

He takes a moment to just take her in: blonde hair falling carelessly on the bed, make-up barely hiding her fatigue and reddened eyes. Is it wrong that he still thinks she is beautiful?

He knocks lightly on her door, getting her attention as she looks up.

"Hey," she says and her eyes light up a little bit. He wishes that he could forget about Trey. That they could somehow go back to how they were before Miami, so perfectly happy. But all his mind can think about is Trey. Marissa shooting Trey; Trey about to smash a phone into his face; Trey and Marissa on a godforsaken beach; Trey, Trey, everything fucking Trey.

"Hi," he finally replies, walking in and taking his jacket off. He lies down next to her, exhaustion hitting him instantly. She glances at him, observing him with searching eyes. Words fail him, so he seeks for her hand. Relief passes over when she intertwines their fingers together.

"How is he?" Marissa asks at last.

"Same as before," Ryan says blankly, staring up at the ceiling.

Marissa wonders how he does it. How he keeps it all together when everything around him is crippling. How does he hide his emotions so well? She has to fight to keep it all from overflowing every second.

"What are you thinking?" Ryan asks quietly, interrupting her thoughts.

"I'm thinking about what you're thinking," she tells him and smiles meekly. He returns it.

"I asked first."

She contemplates what to tell him. She wants them to talk, knows they need to but doing this is harder than she imagined.

"I keep thinking about last night, if I could have done something differently. Then Trey wouldn't be…." Her voice trails, so fearful of condemnation.

"If anyone should have done anything differently, it should be me," Ryan responds, voice dripping with guilt. "I shouldn't have gone over there, jumped him when he was pointing a gun at me. I was fucking stupid."

Marissa turns to her side, unsure of what to say. She brushes her thumb across his knuckles, attempting to offer consolance.

"If I hadn't tried to fight him," Ryan continues, "Then we wouldn't be in this position now. You wouldn't have to shoot him. If it wasn't for me-" His voice breaks, fighting for composure. "You wouldn't even have met Trey," he completes, grief stricken.

"Ryan, look at me," Marissa commands softly. When he reluctantly does so, she places a hand on his cheek.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers.

"Don't be," Marissa tells him simply. "You are not responsible for Trey's actions. Don't be sorry for what he did."

Marissa holds his gaze, leans in and presses her lips against his. It's a desperate attempt to absolve each other and themselves of blame. She buries her head against his chest, his arms wrapping protectively around her.

"Thank you," Ryan murmurs after a while. Marissa looks up, evidently confused. "For saving me," he explains.

She smiles at him because she cannot even contemplate the idea of having done nothing. But at the back of her mind, Trey is ever present. Saving Ryan meant she hurt his brother.

"Can we make it?" she asks suddenly. God, she wants them to. So badly.

"I hope so," he offers, missing his usual conviction. He gives her a pleading look and she thinks that maybe for once he feels as helpless as she does. Her hand runs through his hair, traces the bruise growing visible on his left cheek.

"I think we can," she confirms because the alternative is too painful to acknowledge. When his lips curl to a smile, she's glad she said it. She kisses him and his hand tangles in her hair, pulling her closer, kissing her harder.

It feels like they can survive.

/

fin.


End file.
